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    Reviewer: William 
    J. Gatens
 This is part of a 
    Purcell series from Harry Christophers and The Sixteen. Each program in the 
    series will be built around one or two of the composer’s welcome songs. New 
    Grove lists 9 such pieces: 5 for Charles II, 1 for the Duke of York before 
    he succeeded his brother as king, and 3 for James II as king. It was the 
    custom for British monarchs to spend the summer at Windsor and return to 
    London in October. The welcome songs are odes written for the court’s annual 
    return to the capital. The two examples here are Ye Tuneful Muses, Raise 
    your Heads (1686) and Sound the Trumpet, Beat the Drum (1687) for James II. 
    His birthday was October 14, so the welcome songs did double duty as 
    birthday odes. It is hardly surprising that the words for these compositions 
    were the work of court poets and consist chiefly of fawning flattery of the 
    monarch and his queen. The poetry is mediocre at best, but Purcell could 
    have produced magnificent music for a laundry list, and his contribution far 
    surpasses the quality of the verse. Among the shorter pieces are two early 
    ones from an autograph manuscript that may have served as a portfolio of the 
    composer as he approached his 21st birthday. They are the familiar Chacony 
    in G minor and the sacred song for three voices and continuo ‘When on my 
    Sick Bed I Languish’, a poetic contemplation of approaching death with words 
    from Thomas Flatman’s Poems and Songs (1674). Also fairly early are the 
    seven-part canon ‘God is Gone Up’ and the anthem ‘Save me, O God’. In his 
    notes to this recording, Andrew Pinnock describes the political and 
    religious turmoil that swirled around the brief reign of James II. With all 
    their overblown flattery, the welcome songs were essentially political 
    statements, even if they were little more than a professional obligation for 
    Purcell. Perhaps more indicative of the composer’s real sentiments is the 
    three-part catch ‘True Englishmen Drink a Good Health’ (1688, but not 
    published until 1701), which celebrates the acquittal of seven Anglican 
    bishops who were imprisoned in the Tower of London for declining to read 
    publicly a Declaration of Indulgence commanded by the king. There was also a 
    political dimension to the popularity of Irish and Scottish music at the 
    time, here reflected in ‘A New Irish Tune in G’ (Lilliburlero) and ‘A New 
    Scotch Tune in G’ played on the harpsichord by Alistair Ross. As we have 
    come to expect from Harry Christophers and The Sixteen, the performances are 
    technically superb. The forces are somewhat slim: 8 singers, 12 string 
    players, 2 recorders, and a continuo ensemble of theorbo, harp, and keyboard 
    (organ or harpsichord). The solo singers may not yet be international 
    celebrities in the early-music world, but they demonstrate a remarkable 
    affinity for the style of this music, combining purity of tone with the 
    lightness and agility the repertory demands. At some point in the recording, 
    each singer gets a solo or a part in a small ensemble. Bass Stuart Young has 
    the daunting task of singing solos originally written for John Gostling, a 
    Gentleman of the Chapel Royal who had an extraordinarily wide range and was 
    particularly famous for his low notes. From 1988 to 1992 Robert King and the 
    King’s Consort recorded all of Purcell’s odes and welcome songs for 
    Hyperion. I have long regarded them as the benchmark for this repertory.
 
 The present recording stands up well beside them, but where there is a 
    difference in interpretation I most often find King preferable. For example, 
    in the first section of the opening symphony of Sound the Trumpet, 
    Christophers takes a rather deliberate tempo, and before long I find the 
    persistent over-dotted rhythms annoying. King takes a quicker tempo with a 
    lighter touch that I find more agreeable. My only complaint is that the 
    present recording seems excessively close, and turning down the volume does 
    not entirely make things better. The ear eventually adjusts to it, but I 
    prefer the more spacious sound of King’s recordings. It is not only 
    pleasanter to the ear, but it tends to mitigate the few but inevitable 
    imperfections or such things as the aggressive strumming of the theorbo 
    towards the end of the chaconne in Sound the Trumpet. This is certainly not 
    the first venture into the works of Purcell from Christophers and The 
    Sixteen. The back cover of the booklet reminds us of their recordings of The 
    Indian Queen (Coro 16129; S/O 2015) and The Fairy Queen (Coro 16005; M/A 
    2003). My colleagues were favorably impressed with them, but both remarked 
    on the small forces compared with other recordings of the same music.
 
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